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Writer's pictureMark Sanders

Chapter Eight: Serendipity

Blogtober 2022 Day Eight entry

“Land ahead!” the watch cried.


The sun hovered fat and orange over the ocean horizon behind them. Eila saw the rise of trees and hills ahead, illuminated by the afternoon’s bright glow.


The little ship, like a clever rabbit leading a pack of dogs into the woods, kept within sight but out of reach as the island grew larger before them.


The ship slipped through a narrow passage between two cliffs, twin vertical shears in the rock that looked as smooth as the stone walls of a castle keep. Eila wondered what awaited them on the other side of those cliffs—should they choose to follow.


“Drop all sails but the main,” she said to Rhys, who passed her orders to the crew.


“We’re not going to follow?” Wynn asked.


“I don’t believe in serendipity or coincidence,” Eila said. “We didn’t just happen upon that vessel that just happened to lead us to this convenient little haven.”


“Captain Ellesmere,” Lowys said. “Take a look.” He held out his compass, which was no longer spinning but rather pointing directly toward the island.


“No, not serendipity,” Wynn said. “This is agency and intent.”


“I may be young,” she said, “but I’ve served long enough to know we don’t sail into an unknown situation without prior intelligence.”


“Your orders, Captain?” Rhys asked.


“Approach the island but not the strait,” she said. “Get us close enough to drop anchor. We’ll stay on the Beaumaris tonight and row a shore craft through in the morning.”


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